


Aftermath

by llaivbot



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 11:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4220559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llaivbot/pseuds/llaivbot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over and now comes the aftermath. There are people to deal with, people to find, and people to love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic is being co-written by my friend and me. She doesn't have an account so I'll just give her the name "incarnate". We'll try to update at least every week.  
> Anyways, this chapter is written by me. Enjoy!

Republic City was meant to be peaceful, but peace never lasts for long. Already the weight on Aang’s shoulders was beginning to crush him again. The stress was neverending; it was a continuous cycle of rising and falling. It was always present, but even more prominent now because he had time.

Time to think.

There had been no time to think before Ozai’s fall. He had been pushed along by the roaring water of the stream, able to only do. 

He was painfully aware of even the soft thudding of his footsteps on the metal floor of the Fire Nation prison. The metal was tinted a familiar red by the dim lights that adorned the walls, and it surrounded him from all sides. These narrow hallways were making him paranoid. He needed air, fresh air.

But he couldn’t turn back now. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to control his feet to bring himself back to where he was now, like he was in some kind of sick bloodbending grip. He wouldn’t be able to return, because right now, he was heading to end someone’s life.

He took a sharp breath at the thought of it.

Not end someone’s life in technical terms. But to Aang, taking away someone’s bending was like taking away three fourths of their identity, anyways. Taking away their identity and leaving them (comparably) vegetables was just as bloodcurdling as the thought of death.

Suddenly, the image of Ozai flashed behind Aang’s eyes. The last strip of brilliant blue light overtaking his face, and Aang pulling away from the Ozai’s collapsing form. Ozai had lifted his head weakly, his eyes rimmed with despair and hopelessness, and he had asked Aang, in the voice of an innocent child, “What did you do to me?”

What did you do to me?

A dead man couldn’t ask those kinds of questions. A dead man was not like these people. By taking away their bending, Aang had taken away their very life force and forced them to walk the earth regardless. Which was worse? 

Of course, Aang knew that death was worse. The guilt of taking away someone’s bending probably would not compare to the guilt he would feel in taking someone’s life, but he still hated it. Even now, after he had long  
accepted his role in the universe as the Avatar, he. Still. Hated. It.

Now every time that Ozai’s helpless face flashed through Aang’s mind, it would morph into Azula’s. The previously fierce, commanding fire princess had been already reduced to a pathetic pile of insanity. Aang had met Katara and Zuko right after defeating Ozai and hearing that Zuko had been wounded.

There Azula had been, collapsed with her knees on top of a drain, and her hair curling and covering her face. From behind her hair, Aang heard these mad, guttural screams, each followed up with a blast of her signature blue fire. He had started to walk towards her, and she let out what could only have been classified as a whimper. Fire Princess Azula had been scared.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” she had screamed shrilly, struggling against the chains. Aang caught a glimpse of her eyes from behind a curtain of dark hair. They were bloodshot and bulging. She really was insane. “STOP RIGHT THERE,” she tried to scream again, “Please.” She started to sob, and when Aang neared her, she tried to spit fire at him. And when she did, the fire had been orange. 

She had looked at it, almost going cross-eyed in confusion. “Blue?” she asked, like a small child asking for his stuffed animal, “Blueeee,” she called, as if it were a person. Then suddenly, she laughed, just as Aang and Sokka were hauling her up. It wasn’t her old laugh though, the one that made your muscles tense; it was completely and utterly crazy. She started to scream again. “BLUE, COME BACK TO ME NOW! YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME PLEASEDONTLEAVEMEWITHORANGEORANGEHATESME!”

She had tried to crane her neck back to look for “Blue”, but Aang and Sokka had hauled the crying princess off already.

She had been reduced to that, and now Aang was walking to her cell to even further ruin her life by taking away her fire. At least she wouldn’t have to deal with “Orange” anymore. Aang let out a weak laugh, and then stopped. 

It was too serious a matter to laugh at. He felt sick for laughing.

Aang already felt almost entirely responsible for Azula’s current state. He hated to make it any worse, but the rest of “Team Avatar” insisted it was the right thing to do.

She had tried to escape the prison several times, and if she got out, especially in this state of mind, she could wreak havoc on the new city. It was for the greater good.

“Blueeeeeee,” Aang heard coming from down the hall. A giggle. “Blue? Is that you?” Aang closed his eyes and just concentrated on breathing as he neared the door to her cell. He finally reached it, after what seemed like an decades, and he curled his fingers around the cold doorknob. He twisted it with great difficulty, and it fell open. His next victim lay curled in a ball in the corner of the room, but her eyes were eagerly staring at Aang. 

She grinned from ear to ear. “Blue?”


	2. Death of the Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The princess no longer has her bending... no longer has her identity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written by le friend "incarnate".

The state the former princess was in was so unlike her usual self that Aang could barely recognize her. Was this the same person who had pursued him and his friends with courage and ferocity? Was she the person who had laughed at her brother’s possible doom? No. She had no allies now. She had no friends, and “Blue” was possibly the only thing she had left. And yet here Aang was. Walking into her cell to take away the only thing that she had left. 

“Are you just going to stand there, Blue?”

Aang had been so absorbed in his thoughts that he had not realized that Azula had gotten up and had created flaming orange balls in her hands. 

“Come back to me. Orange is such a disgusting color. It reminds me of Mother. She used to sit beside my father in his flaming orange throne. And Zuko with his disgusting orange fire. MY OWN BROTHER WHO MY MOTHER LOVED MORE THAN ME! MORE THAN ME! NO ONE LOVES ME!”

At this point Azula had crumpled back into a ball. Aang stepped forward. He had to do this. This was the only reason that he was here, and it was the only way to make the people of Republic City safe from Azula. She was a menace to society, and she had to be demolished. He was the Avatar and it was his duty to protect his people. He had already shirked his duties once when he ran away from the Air Temple. And what had that resulted in? The death of all of the air benders. All of his friends. 

He had to take away Azula’s bending for them too. As the last living airbender, he had to make sure that the others didn’t die in vain. He stepped forward and shifted Azula up with air, then secured her position with the earth. He was surprised to find tears streaking down her face. The Azula that he knew would have never cried in front of the enemy. Was she really broken beyond repair?  
As Aang was about to place his hands on her forehead and her heart to take away her bending, she whimpered, “Don’t.”

But of course he was going to. He had to. Aang put his hand over her brain and her heart, and was astonished by how hot her skin was. The tears were coming faster now, and they were steaming. Her eyes were red and helpless. This was going to be the one thing that really made Azula unfixable. Once he did this, she was going to be broken forever, and her shield would be gone...Well, she would just have to deal with it. Aang realized that the monks would have disapproved of such ignorant thoughts, but in this situation there was no alternative option. 

He closed his eyes and reached inside his soul to the spiritual connection that he felt to the previous avatars. He thought about Roku’s despair of the world that he had created for Aang, and he thought about the eyes of the magnificent lion turtle. They were all part of him. They knew that this was right. 

A blue glow painted the whole room. When Aang had taken away Ozai’s bending, there had been a red light that was overpowering Aang’s entire being. Aang had to fight against the evil that Ozai emitted to find the light in him to take away Ozai’s power. When he tried to take away Azula’s power, there was almost no opposition. All that came from Azula was a single harmless spark. Then, it was all gone.

Azula slumped against the cell’s wall. She had given up. Azula had given up. When Aang had seen her for the first time he had hated her malignant ways, but had still sensed her deep mental issues. Azula had fought for so long against her problems, and she had kept all of her sadness at bay, but as doubt and fear had crept into her mind, so had all of the feelings that she had been holding back. The tough faces and the careless smirks had all been her way of pushing her feelings of neglect and sadness away, and her blue fire had been her only power. But now it was gone, and Azula was defeated. 

The Princess of the Fire Nation was dead.


	3. What's Done is Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang is suddenly faced with the realization that he can't take it back. His actions will have consequences, and he will have to face them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written by me.

Katara walked along the beach to join Aang on the beach that he had asked her to come to. It was the perfect romantic spot, especially for them. Steady, calming waves and the light breeze that swept over the area.  
In other words, where sky met water.

The beach was completely void of people, except for Aang, whose dark form Katara could see against the sky which had been streaked with pink and orange as a ritual for the setting sun. He sat in the shallow water, letting the water flow under him and out again.

He looked deep in thought. 

She wasn’t surprised. He was always thinking of something or another, usually concerning his duties as the Avatar, but she hoped that this train of thought was calmer, more peaceful.

“Hi, Aang,” she greeted him, sitting down in the sand next to him.

He jumped a little, but then regained his composure and returned the greeting. “Hi, Katara,” he said in a melancholy tone.

He was like this again. His voice sounded muddled with guilt. Why did he always feel that everything was his fault? She understood that he was the Avatar and he felt personally responsible for the state of the world, but the world was at peace now (thanks to him) and he should have tried to be, too.

“What’s wrong?” she asked him, genuinely concerned with what he was feeling no matter what it might be.

He let out a breath, his eyes still fixed on the receding current. “I went to visit Azula today.”

The temperature seemed to drop a couple degrees, and a spark of anger lit behind her eyes. She still remembered the fight. Zuko, arms and legs splayed out in midair in front of her, taking the bolt to the heart for her.

“Why?” she asked, unintended annoyance creeping into her tone. Azula was a touchy subject, and while Katara was empathetic as well, Aang was far too much so. All of them had voted to take her bending, but he had still been in opposition to the idea. She would still listen to what he had to say, but she hoped he hadn’t brought her here to tell her bad news.

“I...” he raised his eyes to look at her and he sighed, “I took her bending.”

Good news had admittedly not been what Katara expected to hear. “You did?”

“Yeah.”

There was a silence between them, and the only noise was the ocean water and the slight breeze. 

“You did good,” Katara finally said. Of course he had. She put an arm around him and hugged him to her, but he pulled away quickly.

“No, I didn’t.”

He looked at her, his eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of guilt, regret, and confusion. “Katara, she was completely terrified, like a small child. One of the monks’ primary principles was “don’t hurt those who have no defense”. 

She didn’t even blow a single puff of fire at me. She had completely given up, and I took advantage of that. I took her bending, the only thing that she had left.”

“Aang.” Katara cut in firmly, “Azula has hurt, killed, and manipulated so many people. How can you feel sorry for her? Even defenseless, she was still getting into your head, trying to get you to change your mind.”

“No, she wasn’t. She didn’t say a single word. That was all me. You don’t have to be manipulated to feel sorry for someone whose life you’re basically going to end, Katara.”

She sighed, remembering the Fire Nation soldier that had killed her mother. She had felt sorry for him, at least a little bit after seeing the poor, pathetic life he lived. But in the end, she let him live because she had felt that the life he was already leading was a greater punishment than death. Aang didn’t feel sorry for Azula in that way. He actually cared that he was hurting her; he wasn’t just finding the way that would hurt her most. 

“Maybe you’re right,” Katara said, not wanting to fight anymore. He had done the deed and that was all that mattered. She didn’t know if he would ever get over it, but at least Azula was powerless. Justice had been served.

He looked at her, his angry expression softening. He hugged her suddenly, burying his face in her hair. “What have I done?” he said, his voice distant and so mixed with emotion that it seemed to have none.

She kissed the side of his face. “Hey, it’s okay, Aang. It’s not your fault. We asked you to do it.”

“I can’t take it back,” he said.

“No, you can’t,” she said, “But what’s done is done.”

“What’s done is done,” he whispered, his voice carrying down the beach and fading into the darkness left behind by the setting sun.


End file.
